Ode to Coffee

I would like to take a moment just to sing a little song of praise to my hero, my motivator, my one true love, the one I cannot be without............coffee.

Oh coffee, how do I love thee?

I love the fact that coffee smells like morning.  It is pungent, and strong, and bold, everything that I am not in the morning.  I wake up looking like a mixture Keith Richards and Lindsey Lohan on a bender.  My hair is a mess, my eyeliner is usually racooned under my eyes, (yes, I know you aren't supposed to go to bed with makeup on, but you know what, I am lucky if I brush my teeth before passing out at night.  I am so tired, that most of the time I don't even make the transition from yoga pants to pajamas!)  my mouth feels like I swallowed a mouthful of sand and poop, and every move I make sounds like I am popping popcorn in my body.  I walk downstairs, and pull out the bag of coffee grounds, and just the smell of it makes me a better person.  The aroma actually wipes the sleep out of my eyes for me.  I pour the powdered gold, into the coffee filter, and I swear, angels float around me singing "Zippidy do dah! Zippidy aye! My oh my what a wonderful day.."  and little birds and rabbits come around my feet dancing a long.  It is magical. 

Then there is a wait.  The awful wait between pushing the button, and beautiful wonderfullness in my cup.  What to do during this time?  Still too sleepy to check email.  Still too tired to watch the news (plus what a crappy habit is this to do?  Good morning!  Let me tell you about all of the bad crap that happened while you were asleep!  Because nothing says make today great like hearing about all of the evil in the world!  But no, it is either that or flip right to Nick Jr, and then feel like stabbing out my eyes and ears that much earlier in the day.  So news it is.)  I usually just sit and stare out the window waiting for it to magically turn from black dirt into my magic elixer.  I often wonder how much time I spend staring out the window if I added it all up.  I mean, I feel like I stare out of the window alot.  And what is that about?  What does my brain do while I am just staring?  Is it rebooting?  Is it decompressing?  I stare out the window when I am with my kids in the basement for an alarming amount of time.  But that is another post.

Then it is time.  I pour my flavored creamer into the cup first, because making sure it is mixed thourghouly is important to me.  Flavored creamer is a big deal in our house.  If we have coffee and no flavored creamer, the Admiral will go out, and get creamer (or Starbucks depending on how he is feeling), because this is an Defcon 5 situation.  You know it is important if you are going to actually
use heavy machinery before you drink the liquid sunshine. 

So creamer is in the cup, the beautiful steamy liquid is poured on top of it, and EVERY STINKING TIME I take a sip right away and burn the crap out of my tongue.  It is like I just cannot learn.  I have no willpower for delay of gratification  in my body, I have to get the coffee in there as soon as possible, and if bodily harm is involved, so be it.  I know that I have scar tissue all over my tongue from this, because it hurts much less now than it did years ago.  I can also eat much spicier food that I did years ago, and this I attribute to the heavy hot coffee drinking.  My mom can literally pour it right from the pot into her mouth, and is unphased completely.  I guess since she is 80, her tongue is just one giant callouse. 

What else do I love about coffee, besides the fact that it saves my life, and the lives of all I live with,
by me consuming it?  The variety!  Right now is pumpkin latte season.  I know some people are not fans, but holy cow am I a lover of Pumpkin Latte.  Caribou coffee used to have the best one, but then some evil demon of a person bought them and then SHUT THEM DOWN!!!  If I ever meet this person, I am filling up a sock with butter and smacking him with it. (Pause for a moment to simmer down my anger a bit......  Ok.  I am good now.)  Then at christmas there is peppermint mocha, and in the winter there is salty caramel mocha!  In the hot summer, there are iced coffees, and frappes!  AND ICE CREAMS!!!  Mocha java chip....you are a genious Graeters!  Best ice cream flavor ever!

So that is my little ditty about how great coffee is.  I need to go.  The babies are all asleep, and the Admiral is home today watching TV and chilling, so I am going to run out to Starbucks!  Later yall!

Ten things you really need to know about me

So I have been posting for about two months now, and  I realize that though most of my audience is my friends and family, there is actually a portion of my audience to whom I am a complete stranger!  (Quick shoutout to the 50 people that are following my page in Indonesia!  Thanks for reading!)  So I thought I would give you all the 10 most essential things you need to know about me. 

#1. I am a huge nerd.  
I am really a big dork.  I own this.  I flaunt this.  And I have no apologies for my love of all things Harry Potter, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, the new Star Trek movies, any movie that the Sci-Fi network puts out (I do NOT love them for content, merely for the comical aspect of it.  I mean come on, Dino Croc will be a cult classic very soon.  It is a Dinosaur and a Crocodile hybrid!  WHAT IS NOT TO LOVE?!?!)  and my goal is to one day make it to Comicon.  I have a whole board on Pinterest dedicated to this, where I pin all kinds of things dedicated to my love for all things nerdy.  I have not had a chance to watch Dr. Who, but not because I don't want to, I just seriously do not have time.  My fantasy is for The Admiral to walk in one day dressed as Harry Potter, to which I will be his Ginny.  I want a wand, because I am convinced I am magical, and I will be able to make this work. Hogwarts did not contact me because I am in America, and I did not see any Americans in the movie, so they must not get invited. They probably don't take FAFSA anway.  I would have made a wonderful addition to the Fellowship of the Ring, and I am convinced Frodo would have made it there sooner had I been on the committee. 

#2.  I really do love my kids
I know I complain and rant a lot about my children.  I may lament over mistakes that I make with them, and I seethe with frustration sometimes, but I am completely head over heels in love with my kids.  I do little things for them, because of the love i have for them, and when they don't appreciate it, I rant.  They are ungrateful, and test boundaries, but that is part of the job we sign up for.  It does not mean we have to love and cherish every single moment I we are with them.  Sorry if I don't weep at the memory of Mini Me smearing poo on her wall as a toddler, or Little Man throwing himself down in the middle of a parking lot at Giant Eagle because he didn't want to go in. 

#3  I used to have a life outside of the house

I really really did used to have a life.  I was a preschool teacher (so sometimes I really do know what I am doing, though I may not look like it.)  and I used to work with other adults, and have adult conversations and lunch breaks, and go out for happy hours, and all of that fun crap.  I had a brain.  But staying home day after day, month after month, year after year, with little else on during the day except mind-numbing Nick Jr. shows, singing songs about feelings, and washing hands, and brushing teeth, I think my brain has melted away a little bit.  Atrophy from lack of real use.  So when all I am doing is numbers 1-10 for the last 12 years and "what sound does B make", and my son brings me home his 5th grade math homework, or a friend starts talking about their job, my eyes kind of glaze over because that part of my brain has not been tapped into for a really long time and the synapses are like a rusty rail-road tie.  Hard moving the train forward, due to lack of use.

#4 I have a rather large family
I am the youngest of 7.  I have three brothers and 3 sisters.  Holidays are fun and loud and awesome.  We all get along.  I know some of you, well, most of the people I have talked to are either not close to their family, or don't get along, and stress out about things like Thanksgiving.  I have to say, I can relate to a lot of stuff, but not this one.  So you will not hear me rant about my siblings or parents.  They rock.

#5 I am a horrible housekeeper.  

I complain a lot about my house and how dirty it is, but really, I am just as big a culprit as the kids.  I tend to leave plates and cups out, throw dirty clothes on the floor, and when I do clean, I miss a lot of stuff.  The Admiral was in the Navy, and so it kinda drives him crazy.   When we do argue, this is a big one.  He just doesn't see how I can forget about a load of laundry that has been in there, and has been rewashed 3 times.  I will say, he does a lot around the house.  He does all of the yard work, fixes anything that breaks, takes out all the trash, and is the chief vaccumer of the house.  When I say vacuum, I mean this man vacuums stuff that I didn't even know you needed to do.,  Like light fixtures.  And air vents, and baseboards. Did you know that those tools on the back of the vacuum actually do stuff??  ME EITHER!!  I hate housework with a passion.

#6  I sing.  All. The. Time.
I sing a lot.  When I am in the car I sing.  When people catch me singing, and smirk, I stare into their eyes and sing like I am singing to them, (which catches them off guard and is really funny how they go from thinking I will be embarassed to BEING embarrassed.) I sing when I am frustrated. For example, singing "You better clean this room up or I'll ground your butt, right now" sung to 'A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.'.  My kids love this.....(pause for hysterical evil laughing)

#7 Not the wino I seem to be.
I talk about loving wine, but I rarely have the opportunity to actually drink it.  My kids are early risers, and are up at the buttcrack of stupid.  Usually like 6am.  So if I drank wine as often as I wish, I would wake up to a house in chaos, because when I drink even one, I sleep like the dead.  And these people can not be trusted to get up and be to their own vices with me asleep.  They just cannot.  I shudder to think what I would find. 

#8 I am a points counter
I am doing weight watchers and have been for about a year now.  I look at food, and the first thing I think is 'how many points is that??'  I have never done so much mental math in my life. 

#9  I love to shop, for other people.
I love to go shopping.  I will drop a wad of cash on a gift for someone else, but when it is for me, I plead poverty.  I will walk around in a grubby T shirt, and holey socks for weeks, because I don't want to spend the money on buying new ones, but will not even blink at dropping $80 for a gift for my mom or dad.  I will happily buy my children new clothes or books, but am reluctant to spend $10 on a pack of hanes her way socks.  Makes no freakin sense at all.  The Admiral shakes his head at me on this one.

#10  I am horrible with directions.  Horr. I. ble....
I have a negative sense of direction.  I can get lost driving out of my own subdivision.  I get turned around in the grocery store.  I lose my car if it is the only one in the lot.  Do not give me verbal directions, I need a written out plan, with landmarks and a map.  And do not ask me to give you directions, because I WILL get you lost.  I will.  It is unfailing.  Lost on the island with the smoke monster lost. 

So now I think we know each other a little better.  Hopefully you will still keep on reading.  And if not, may the force be with you, live long and prosper!

Hmm, Pinteresting...

So I have come to the conclusion that most of the pins that are on Pinterest are just completely ridiculous.  Now don't get me wrong, I am like most of you.  I am right there, pinning away happily in the evening when the Admiral is watching something dumb on TV.  But even though I am pinning this stuff, I know in my head that it is either #1 completetly undoable, or #2 I will never do it because I don't have the time. More importantly, anyone who actually HAS the time to do this stuff, really needs to assert those efforts into becoming a more productive member of society. 

Now I don't mean the recipies, ( because man, some of those are ah-maz-ing), or the cleaning tips (though some of those can be quite questionable).  I am talking about the fashion.  The impossible photo shoots, and all of the things that make me feel like a complete loser mom.  If I did a quarter of the things that are on there for keeping up with milestones, or important events in my kids lives, I would never sleep, eat, or see my kids. 

Let me give you just a few examples of the things some of these trolls put on there that make me feel guilty or inadequate.  For example

This is a 'what to do with your sonogram'.  Do you know where my sonograms are?  In an enevelope in a box somewhere.  Am I ever going to frame them?  Probably not, because by the time I get around to it, my kids will be bigger and what kid wants to bring their friend over to play in their room with this collage hanging in it?  Creeeepy.

Then there is  this

First of all, I do not have a chalkboard.  And even if I did, I would not do this, because I am exhausted, and when the baby is awake, most likely it wants carried around all the time, or is eating, or throwing up on me.  Plus, what am I going to need all of this information for later?  His resume?  "Oh yes I see that Little Man was 9 pounds at one month old.  Well, I am sorry, the applicant that came in before you was 10 pounds at one month, and could already roll over.  You just aren't qualified enough.  Suzie please send in the next applicant, I hear this guy was saying 'Mama' at 3 months old!"
Plus I haven't even printed off any pictures of my youngest since his first birthday.  They are all still on the camera or the computer.  So who knows when or if it would ever make it to print anyway. I feel guilty.  Your royal highness has a whole scrapbook all about his first year.  The twins, well, we barely have any pictures of them until six months because I could barely think let alone grab a camera.  And poor Little man, Most of the pictures we have were taken by other people.

Next offender.
Don't get me started on these lunches.  What kind of Ritalin are these moms siphoning off of their kids?

I have four kids and two additional toddlers that I watch.  If I did this, first of all, my kids would still not eat it, and then throw it at each other, and then I would be pissed and resentful to them. But also  they would STARVE and miss the holiest of holies, NAP because it would take two hours to do this for all 6 of them!

Next thing that drives me crazy.  WHY upon WHY do all of the nurseries and bathrooms have chandeliers?  What parent puts a chandelier in their kids room?  Or in the BATHROOM? 

Yeah, the Admiral wouldn't hit his head on that at all.  SMH.....

And finally, the party ideas. More importantly, the children's party ideas.  These days I am happy just to manage to HAVE a party for my children.  They are expensive, and a pain in the butt, and are just getting out of control.  (don't get me started on goodie bags. Why in the name of frugal Ben Franklin do I need to give all of the guests a gift, after I have invited them, fed them, and given them cake and ice cream?  Why?  I just don't get this tradition.  Seems to me that the party kind of IS the gift, right?  I mean, I just paid $300 for all of those little ingrates to get into Pump it up, and play on inflatables for two hours straight, $100 for pizza, and $60 for a giant cake to feed them all.  Really?  I have to give you all a bag full of 'goodies' (aka crap) that you are going to touch for the amount of time it takes for the car ride home, leave it in the car, only for  your parents to toss out the next time they clean out the car?  But I digress....)  But Pinterest has all of these ideas on there that make me feel like I am such a loser mom.  For example....

Individually wrapped crayons.  (pause for a withering stare.)  Come.  On.  WHO has time to do this for every crayon, for every bundle, for every kid?  I will just leave this at that.

Do you know how expensive this would be??  Who can afford to do this?? And if you can, don't tell me.  I don't want to know.

Now this one, I am shamefully going to admit, I tried to do this for my son.  I went to the store, and guess what it was going to cost to make one of these for every student in his class. Math lesson everyone, gather round.

 A roll of Rolos is about a dollar.  Each bundle needs three.  There were 23 students in his class last year. How much does momma need in order to make these for her precious?

Answer: $66!!!!  For CANDY!  So even if I would have done one stick of Dynamite for each student, it would have been $23.  So I went with Mentos.  They were much cheaper.  Then there is the message.  I was making these pretty close to after Sandy Hook happened.  So I didn't think 'Bomb' would be a good word to use for the message.  I changed it to "You are a blast to have as a friend".  Better, right?  Oh, and let me also say, it took me 3 HOURS to make and write the message and tape it all together.  AND I had to do all of this AFTER my littles went to bed.  What kind of crack was I on, you ask?  Well, we were getting ready to move, and I was having serious mommy guilt for what I was going to put my son through.  So I thought I would do something nice for him.  Now I will say, he really did love and appreciate it, but I will probably never ever do something like this again.  Probably.

 I don't know, mommy guilt will make you do a lot of things.  Including Pinterest.

The 7 phases of me having a party

We are right in the middle of getting ready to have a big housewarming party at our new digs tomorrow. I have learned something about myself.  I go through the same 7 phases every time I host something at my house.  Every time. 

Phase one: Excitement, and grand plans:
So I have decided to host a party!  That is wonderful!  Who doesn't enjoy time with friends and hearing their house filled with laughter and the sound of ice tinkling in glasses. The first thing I do is make a list of who all I want to come.  This is not super easy, because I have a terrible memory and always seem to forget someone.  Then I get invitaitions, because I am old school like that, and fill them out right away, address them, and stick the stamps on them.  Then sit them on the console table by the door, where they sit for another few weeks, because I never can seem to remember to actually take them out to the mailbox. Then it is Pinterest time! I hit up Pinterest for some ideas that will absolutely never come to fruition.  This party's grand idea was to make a giant photo booth out of cardboard boxes.  (Never. Gonna. Happen)

Phase two: Feeling organized, one week before the party
So party date is set, finally mailed invites, and now I am gong to try to conquer cleaning this house without killing myself.  So I make a plan to clean the house a little bit each day.  This is a great idea, unless you have kids.  I clean the bathroom, then Your Royal Highness who has the aim of a 95 year old blind guy, helps me break in the bathroom for that not too clean feeling.  Then Little man has a 15 minute splash fest during bath time, and Thumbellina sneeks into the bathroom to "wash her hands' with the toothpaste.   I clean the living room, and literally 20 minutes later, puzzels are strewn about the floor like snow, and Your royal highness sets his heavily iced drink right on the table.  Overnight. So there is a nice giant ring and puddle around the cup right in the ding dang middle of the table.  Candy wrappers from who knows who are all over the floor (it may or may not have been me), and homework papers are under the couch now.  Dog hair is replaced as soon as it is swept up.  Seeing as I can only clean when the children are asleep, most of my work is undone, and cannot be done again until the following sleep time.  So we are looking at 48 hours before the party, and most of my work has to be redone again. 

Phase three: Panic (or as the Admiral refers to it, "the witchy" phase)
I have 48 hours until the party.  I have to re-clean my entire house.  I have to make food.  No one has really RSVP'd (just so you know, this is a HUGE pet peeve of mine.  Just say yes or no!  I sent my email address, you don't even have to call me!) so I don't entirely know how much food to make (and also just so you know, I come from a long line of people in my family where if you don't have a lot of leftovers after a party, you didn't make enough food.)  I don't know what I am going to wear, and I don't have time to go and get something new!  None of my clothes fit me anymore, I have lost a bunch of weight on Weight Watchers, and I have nothing that fits! (Before that, the panic was I was too fat for all of my clothes and I have nothing to wear.)  My kids all need baths, and the dog needs washed.  I need to get going making that photo booth or it isn't going to happen!  I don't' think I am going to have enough beer!  What if I can't get the house cleaned in time?  What if no one comes?  I wanted to paint the entire house and now I don't have time to do that!   What are people going to think????  I take most of this anxiety out on anyone in my family who tries to talk to me or add things to my to do list. "What?? You need me to make you lunch for school today?  I don't have time for this nonsense!!"  "What do you mean you there are no clean socks??  You people are so freakin needy!  Socks, food, water...when does it end with you people?!?!"

This was the photo booth idea.  Who was going to run it?  Me?

Phase four: Feelings of inadequacy, and regret, night before the party
Food is made and ready to go, House is getting clean, but my grand ideas did not come to fruition.  Photo booth did not get made.  Party favors for guests did not get made.  Straws with little mustaches taped onto them for people to use did not get made.  House did not get painted.  Pictures did not get bought and hung on the walls.  Outfit did not get bought.  How did I not get all of this done?  What have I been doing this whole time??  (Oh right, raising a family).  I just shouldn't have parties. Why do I put myself through this??  I am never having a party again!  Ever!

Phase five: Anxiety, the hour before the party
Maybe I have time to just throw on a quick coat of paint to the bathroom?  Just the bathroom!  I swear!  No?  How about the photo booth?  I could whip one up really fast.  Oh crap, no I can't, I have to go and re-clean the bathroom for the 80th time....

Phase six: Elation, the party is here
People start showing up and bringing food and beer and wine and desserts and conversation.  People are entertaining my kids so I can have a moment to socialize with someone whose vocabulary is larger than 100 words.  Everyone is commenting on how great the house is.  I am in heaven!  I love this!  So much good food!  I love these people!  I am so glad all of them came, and that I made extra food just in case!  "Oh this outfit?  I know I have lost some weight, I need new clothes.  Thanks for noticing how much looser my clothes are, and telling me how skinny I am!"

Phase seven: Amnesia, after that party
That was so much fun!  I had such a great time!  How nice to have everyone here, and the kids are exhausted from playing with everyone.  They are so tired they went right to sleep without one person out of bed.  My house is so clean I won't have to clean it for a week, except for the party trash.  But my family and friends are so awesome, they helped clean up after the party, so I am all done already!  You know what, we should really do this more often Admiral.  What do you mean I have lost my mind?

Cost-freakin-co

So tonight I have to go to Satan's playground.  Costco. 

Now don't get me wrong, the benefits far outweigh the problems, but I just HATE going.  You have no idea how much I loathe this trip.  If I could do it alone, that would be great.  But I can't.  I have to take all of God's children, plus the Admiral.  Why you may ask?  I will tell you.  Because I am short and have no muscles to speak of.  Plus we get two carts full of crap, and I just cannot pull two whole carts of crap by myself.  It is heavy crap, and I need the Admiral.  Sometimes if he is working, I will have to make the trip with the littles and your royal highness, but this is equally not fun, because he does nothing but complain about how long it is taking and how heavy the cart is.  I try to pacify him with samples, but with Little Man having umpteen thousand allergies to food,  he can't have most of them, and so he throws a fit because who in their right mind would rather have a box of raisins from the diaper bag over a cookie from a nice lady in a white hat and plastic gloves? 

Number two reason I hate Costco, lolly-gaggers, rubberneckers, browsers and isle-cloggers. I get it people, there is a lot to see and it can be hard to choose.  But just as in golf, rate of play baby!!!  Let faster shoppers go around you!  Be aware of people like me, who are pulling a cargo train of carts behind them with my whole family, most of whom want to go home ASAP.  I know what I need, I know where to find it, and I need to get OUT of there.  I do not want to be held up because an isle -clogger is looking at what package of giant syrup she wants.  My twins are beating each other with bread, my little man is eating peaches out of the cart and dripping juice down his chin, and your royal highness is groaning and trying to jump on the cart and add to the already hundreds of pounds I am pushing around every square inch of that place because "his feet hurt so bad".  This is the same kid who was running around minutes ago. 

Number three reason I hate Costco, the layout.  WTH Costco?  Why would you scatter the food all over the store mixed in with other things that I don't need?  I know you think you are marketing, but you aren't.  Who do you think you are, Target??  You are not sir, you are not.  Don't even try.  And quite putting the toys so close to the freaking granola bars!  I already have to fight your royal highness about videos and video games we pass right when we walk in, not to mention the drooling of the admiral over the large TV's that are at the enterance.  But really, Toys?  And what moron thought it was a good idea to put the diapers WAAAAAAY the heck back in the back of the store at the far left corner, where there is a giant bottleneck?  Do you realize that those are the reason MOST people go to Costco in the first place? Cheaper diapers?  So yes, let's make tired, sleep deprived mothers walk the farthest for the things they need, and just to make sure they don't miss a square inch, let's put the formula way the hell in the front.  

Mostly, I hate Costco, because everything I have to pack in my car is loose, and that is so freakng annoying to have to make 25,000 trips back and forth from the car with heavy boxes and bags.  Thank you, for making what was already an exhausting trip, into a more exhausting one. I don't need to exersice at all this week because I just burned 3000 calories on the GROCERY. Not to mention that I have to go over TWO sets of railroad tracks, so all of that loose stuff is bounced around, so SOMETHING is going to break loose (talking about you blueberries!)  And the other thing is, shopping at that store, size is relative to where you are.  So because everything is big, nothing looks big.  When I am at the store, a big bag of limes looks reasonable.  However when I get it home, I think to myself, "What the heck am I supposed to do with all of these limes??"  So often, I over purchase, or make pie.  Neither is really a good thing.

But like I said, the benefits outweigh the problems.  It is much cheaper to buy the bulk of my groceries  there, than to buy everything at the regular supermarket.  So until I can get a giant box of wipes at Kroger for $19, Costco it is.  But I don't have to like it.

On Target

This weekend I was able to do the thing that I love to do the most.  For an entire hour and a half, I wandered aimlessly around Target.  It was the most magical time of the whole week.  Oh, don't let me forget to add, I wandered around Target.....alone!  It was amazing.  After that, the grass was greener, the sky was bluer, the Buckeys had a blowout of a game, and I know it is all because I was able to go to Target by myself.


You may be thinking to yourself, "Why Target?  What is so great about Target?"  and to you I say, "What isn't great about Target!?!?  They have EVERYTHING and things what you didn't even know you needed!  It is clean, and bright, and colorful.  They have everything from wine, to yoga pants, to kitchen gadgets.  They have snacks, really cute kids clothes, and wine.  They have all of the things that make me happy, like shoes, and books, and chocolate, and brownie mix, and wine!  Did I mention they have wine?  Well they DO!  A whole isle of it!  And better yet, they have it in BOXES, so there isn't that worry of breaking glass if the kids mess with it.  And it has a TAP on it, so you can just pour as much as you want, and it won't turn into vinegar if you are too tired to finish it off. (or pass out, which ever comes first.)

 I see other moms there too, and you can tell the ones that are there alone, without kids, for the first time in a long time, because they just have this certain smile on their face, and they avoid any isles with children in them.  And when we pass each other we grin, and nod our heads, and she knows you are kid free right now too because you have the same look you face.

I will say the only downfall when it comes to Target, is that their marketing is way too good.  I went in for dog food, and came out with dog food, dog treats, coffee creamer (they had  Salty Caramel Mocha!  Costco doesn't have that!!  What a magical place!  I mean salty caramel mocha!!), caramel candy (because I decided that now was a good time to make caramel apples, WTH Target?? Why do you need to give me messages like that?), socks, and a deck of football shaped playing cards.  Some of the other things that almost went into my cart, but I restrained myself, were coasters for your wine glass that double as a tag for the stem that says, "I will be right back, don't throw this away" (Oh. My. Gosh!), a ghost themed dog collar (because who doesn't need that??) , a red velvet cake pop kit for halloween (so it looked like you were biting into a bloody eyeball!!  Adorable!), more yoga pants, snacks of various flavors, some really sweet shoes, little Halloween headbands for the girls, ghost marshmallows, Little People Snow White and the Seven dwarfs  dwarves little people (seems redundant) figures, and duck tape (it looked like mummy wrapping!!).  I always tell The Admiral that there is a $50 cover charge for Target, you have to spend that much or you can't shop there.  He rolls his eyes and looks balefully at me.  But the reality is, they just have really cool stuff, and it all looks awesome, and I am a consumer, and therefore must consume.  I justify it by the fact that I have a Redcard, so I automatically get 5% off anything I purchase, and there is no interest because it is a checkcard! 


But that is not all that Target has to offer!  There is a Starbucks right inside!  So not only can I shop for things I didn't even know I needed, I can do it with a pumpkin spice latte, or peppermint mocha in my hand people!  And if I am doing this sans family, it is all that much more luxurious!  I can browse, and have a thought in my head that is not interrupted by someone needing a bathroom break, or moaning about how much they need that Lego set, or Nerf gun, or Thomas the freaking Tank Engine, or Disney Princess doll, or trying to make a break for it and running up and down the isles.  I can look at what I want to look at.  Like stuff to organize closets that I will never organize (but I might one day!!), or tablecloths that I will never use because the littles will pull them off the table including the dinner that was set on it.  I can stroll leisurely without the Admiral groaning and looking at his watch and murmuring "Are we about done?  You ready to go?  I am hungry, we need to go get something to eat."

Shopping alone at Target may not sound all that great to some of you, but for me, it is just about the biggest treat this mom could get.  And it wasn't even my birthday!

Ode to yoga pants

The Admiral calls what I wear daily my uniform.  Yoga pants, t-shirt (with usually various levels of spit-up, snot, or drool accumulated on it by about 9am), socks with holes in the toe (I think to buy the kids socks, but do I think to buy ME socks?  No.), and ponytail.  Thank God the man actually loves me, because I don't know anyone else that could find that attractive enough to have 4 kids with, but here we are.

Yoga pants are probably the most wonderful creation in the world.  They are stretchy.  They are soft.  They do not cut into your stomach when you have to bend over to do sidewalk chalk for 20 minutes at a time.  They ebb and flow as your hormones do.  Fat day? Yoga pants understand.  Skinny day?  Yoga pants think you look amazing, look how they hang off of your hips so seductivly.  Lost a little weight lately, look how cute you look with them rolled down a bit.  Gain a little weight, yoga pants get it, no one is perfect.  Yoga pants are there for you. 

And at the end of the day, who is there for you then, when yoga pants are ready to be thrown into the washer?  Who is ready to be tagged in?  It's equally amazing cousin, pajama bottoms.  Pajama bottoms do the same job as yoga pants, with the added benefit of cute charactors on it.  Just to be a little cheeky.  Yes, that is cookie monster on my butt, how cute am I?  (and how ironic, because after the kids go to bed, I turn INTO cookie monster on the couch.) And sometimes if you are lucky enough to have them, they are a little fuzzy, and super super soft.  Like sleeping on little baby chicks, without the gory detail of squishing them, and blood and feathers all over the bed.  Sweet sweet sleep isn't that far away when pajama bottoms are in your corner. 

I know that it may not be the most attractive attire that I own.  I know that it may not be the most flattering, but you know, in this season of my life, with creature comforts few and far between, when I am taking prison showers, and skip shaving my legs for the umpteenth time, and when I am at maximum capacity for mucus, poop, and vomit... yoga pants and pajama bottoms are there for me.  Unlike you, traitorous jeans, who shrink at a moment's notice and you khaki pants who can't deal with cheeto fingers.  Yoga pants do this with grace and forgiveness. 

Thank you yoga pants.